Forget Me Knot

by Melissa Glisan

  Wantonly, she bent and parted her knees, but before she could resume the game they started a few nights before he smiled and grabbed her ankles urging her closer to the end of the table. He lifted her instep to his mouth and she felt the brush of his lips from her foot to the center of her body. Gasping in shock, she looked at the brilliant vine pattern painted from leg to crotch writhe and the feeling of the caress rolled through her body again in a sinuous aftershock of carnality. His tongue traced the meandering pattern and her body exploded in heat as each caress amplified across her painted hide. Abandoning one leg for the other, she collapsed to the table, panting.

  Flora felt the timbers shiver as he climbed onto the table top, between her legs, but he avoided touching her aching body until his face found her opposite knee. Bloodroot her mind blanked as his rough tongue rasped the delicate flesh in the soft bend. The plant had long deep vibrant fluid filled roots, roots that anchored in her feminine core. The lapping caress was felt more inside her hungry walls than her quivering leg. Idle hands found her hips and shockwaves roiled along electrified nerve endings. She felt the gentle brush of a fern along her arching back, the pull of ivy widening her legs to accept the weight of her lover, the curl and tickle of yarrow urging her arms to his shoulders. Touching him eased the insane cacophony of feelings, turning every erotic brush of fingers, lips and teeth into a ripple of feeling mocking the slide of his member in her weeping sheath.

  “Please, please, please…” she begged over and over the moment she found her lost voice as the sibilant laughter of the flowers raging in her body momentarily receded. Faunus was so hard he ached and the smell of her slit, hot and wet awaiting his pleasure made his balls hurt from the pressure as he played the plant spirits bringing her to the edge quickly in time with his hunger. They had ages to learn one another; this need was hungry, riding him with spurs. Trying to slow the burning urge, he allowed his stag side to slide away as the tip of his cock found the slick opening of her sheath. Impatiently she writhed beneath him lifting her hips to meet his as he thrust forward, sliding hard and deep. Moving to kneel between her legs, he sat on his haunches and slid his hands under her hips, slowing the crazed jerking her enflamed body demanded.

  When her glittering gaze found his he licked his fingers then dropped them to her downy mons and lower between the already slicked folds of her labia, stroking the small erect woman flesh that aped his own. Nothing compared to the feel of her inner muscles tightening, convulsing around his thrusting cock as he guided her hips to meet each thrust. He burned; sweat mingling with the steady fog of moisture to run in sluices over his chest and between her legs where they were joined and over his balls. Her pleas turned from mindless begging to incoherent cries as he worked her flesh as his cock plumbed her depths. As his release neared he lost the calm that kept his thrusts even and measured and he collapsed forward nuzzling her breasts before licking the side of her sweaty neck.

  Dazed, Flora felt him shift, and accepted his weight by wrapping her legs around his, digging her heels into the underside of his buttocks. Her fevered mind imagined grapevines binding them together, deepening the embrace as she lost herself to hot waves of pleasure that scorched the air from her lungs. Her body locked as vision dimmed and exploded in brilliant motes of light and screaming swathes of darkness. Above her Faunus cried out, thrusting deep and shuddering as her sheath drank the spurting warm jet of his release.

  The world dimmed to their entwined bodies and the soft hiss of the misters as heat beats slowed and the rasp of hoarse respiration stilled. Opening her eyes, Flora saw the exhausted but amused look on her mate’s face. “Remind me, no more playing in the greenhouse.” His face looked strangely strained. Turning her head, she looked in astonishment at the thick ropes of vines binding their bodies intimately. Closing her eyes again she tried to untangle the feeling of the vines and encourage them to relax. As the vine loosened and slid free aftershocks racked her body, keeping Faunus’ locked deep in her body. It took not a few minutes to convince the overjoyed plants that their coupling was over but as each relented she felt the shimmering memory of its shared joy quake her system. Exhaustion burned through every imaginable muscle as Flora blinked stupidly at the ceiling. Bemused she turned her head wearily left then right.

  “Faunus, why do I only see green?” Grunting, he slowly extricated himself from the soft warm pillow of her body and stared in shock.

  “I think I see why garden fun should only happen once each year.” Every plant in the room touched by their passion had exploded in unaccountable wild growth.

  Sitting up, Flora stared at the tattoo still branded around her upper arm. Three vines braided with small flowers of different colors peeking out from under vine spirals, gaps and soft leaves. “I still feel them inside me,” her voice marveled.

  “Of course you do, my immortal mate, you are Flora.”

  ****

  Lupercus and Celena pulled into the drive stopping scant feet away from the spot where a tornado apparently tossed assorted bags across the front of the Inn. Sprawled on the concrete stoop, hiccupping and giggling, were Red and Ashley.

  Celena climbed out of the car and stared. “Do you think they’re drunk?” She had never seen Madden sloppy drunk and she wasn’t sure she wanted to start today.

  “No,” Lupercus rich voice was full of laughter, “I don’t think they are drunk, my Ashley has a very volatile nature. I should have thought of this when leaving her with Red.”

  “I didn’t get the impression that bouts of hilarity were something Madden suffered from very much.” Stars and stones that sounded peevish.

  Okay, maybe she was entitled. Lupercus could think it was cute all he wanted that his wife looked like she and another man had spent time rolling in the grass. She was not so amused. Anger pulled her gift from ebbing along her skin to focusing on the pair trying to untangle themselves and stand.

  Red lurched to his feet, pulling Ashley to hers. Damn, but he hadn’t noticed she was so tall. She stood eye-to-eye with him. There was an odd brushing against his senses, uncomfortable and sly, like a cat winding around not just his ankles but over his skin. Turning, he saw Lupercus leaning uncaring against the hood of Celena’s rental watching them sort themselves out.

  Looking at Celena hit him like a punch to the gut. He’d listened to Frank mutter darkly about her when she was under the grip of her ‘gift’ but he’d thought the foppish man was being overdramatic. She glowed blue-white from within but her eyes were the blackest pits of starless night, drawing him into a hidden vortex. Her silvered hair danced on an unseen wind as the feeling of being enveloped lessened. Celena cocked her head oddly and turned her strange gaze on Ashley. Incredibly, something she saw jolted her and she blinked, breaking the unearthly contact.

  “Ashley, I must apologize. It was my fault Lupercus wasn’t here to help you unpack.” From the backseat of the rental came a long mournful howl. “Well, mine and Beaujolais’, he was injured while you were gone so we went to collect him and this.” From the canvas book bag permanently attached to her shoulder she pulled out an unwieldy paper sack.

  Curiosity got the better of Ashley despite the spooky look the other woman had worn and she moved closer. “What is it?”

  “Broccoli florets, sunflower sprouts, millet and dried egg food. Special formula and feed your lovebirds need while the hatchling is small. I wasn’t sure of their breed so I got two different types of pellets. Oh! And Lupercus picked out some videos on hand feeding for you.”

  Ashley looked from the weird girl to her gently smiling husband and felt terrible for thinking he had broken his word. She didn’t know why she was so emotional but she was willing to blame it all on being tired from the trip. Even watching Red retrieve the floppy Bassett from the car and carry him into the Inn made her want to cry.

  Celena handed the bag to the other woman. “Crying isn’t a bad thing; you’ve been through a lot of changes. There are still more to come. A few tears to lubricate things won’t hurt
anything at all.”

  “Ah mio tesoro, were you so angered with me that you abused my alpha?” Moving with sinuous grace he pulled her into his arms. Ashley sighed against his chest, breathing in the familiar scent of pine and man that was uniquely his, everything righted in her world.

  “I guess it was rude of me to throw the bags at him.”

  “Is this all that you did?” The silky feel of his fingers idly brushing up and down her spine wrung the unwilling truth out.

  “No,” her voice was sulky as any tired toddler, “I called him a dog.” He went so still she startled. The look on his face was a blend of terror and wonder. “Lupercus?” She traced the beloved lines of his face with the tips of her fingers.

  With a toss of his dark head, he shook himself from his reverie. “I cannot believe mia cara, that Red did not bite you for your insolence.”

  “Funny,” her face settled into a truculent scowl, “he said the same thing.” Lupercus chuckled darkly escorting his bride inside. A few moments later Marc hurried out.

  “What the hell happened out here?” Bemused, Celena looked at him as she bent to pick up an overnight bag.

  “You really, really don’t want to know.” He looked at the scattered bags he’d been sent to retrieve and nodded.

  “I think you’re right.”

  ****

  After settling the sore hound into his doggy bed, Red waited for his lord to do the same with his cranky Lupa. The lump was back in the pit of his stomach getting a nice acid bath by the time Lupercus emerged from the bedroom. There was a dark look of consideration on the Wolf Lord’s face that made Red pull his wolf side close.

  “My Lupa told me a curious tale, alpha, about your unusual new abilities.” His voice grew silky, dangerous, “Care to show them to me?”

  No, Red did not care to do tricks like a poodle in a dog and pony show, but knew better than to allow the thoughts to surface let alone deny the thinly veiled request. The bones of his face and hands ached as they slowly morphed to a state caught between man and wolf. He chose the most lethal combination in case his lord decided to take offense.

  “Stand easy, my friend.” Was the only thing muttered as Lupercus circled, inspecting the lesser wolf. He was astonished at the younger man’s ability. “When you change back, are you able to undo the damage from before?”

  Red shrugged and the wolf disappeared from his mien like ripples fading from the surface of a pond. Experimentally he ran his tongue over his teeth and nodded negatively. “No sir, I think that stays.”

  “You truly are the clan alpha now, in all ways. You and your mate are the protectors of all within the fold of the man-wolf tribe. Quint is happy with the role of beta, do not fear for him.” Red blinked, nonplussed. That was a surprise. It was one thing for Celena to get sort of spacey and say things, it was quite another to have them confirmed by his lord. But the issue of Sandy Black lurched back to the center of his gut.

  Sensing the turmoil within the young wolf, Lupercus allowed a vicious half-smile. “She is also no longer a concern for you or your mate.” When Red opened his mouth, Lupercus waved him to silence. “No, you don’t need to know. Go home.” That said, he turned on an elegant heel and retreated to his bedroom, leaving Red to stand gaping in the hall.

  ****

  On the drive home, Celena seemed quietly contented humming a disjointed tune, but Red couldn’t relax. Everything had been solved too fast. Sure, Tomas was still damaged, but Celena had a solid plan on how to he could be healed, Wolf Lord permitting and assisting. The Faust woman was sitting pretty in prison, never to see freedom again. It had been shocking and sad to learn of the slaughter of Diana’s harts, but Frank, no Faunus, seemed comforted in his loss by Flora. Even the preternatural thorn in his backside, Sandy Black, was neutralized. The only thing left was to alert the other tribes about the Sabine Group and deal with them head-on. But something was making him restless and edgy.

  There was nothing left in his life to hold Celena to McClellan, to keep her by his side. Yes, she said she loved him, and he believed her. But he just couldn’t see a brilliant woman like her giving up her life to sit in a backwater nowhere for the rest of her life.

  Too soon the car turned down the drive and parked in front of his home. Celena hopped out and trotted over to the fence to pet Prince’s nose. Red got out and leaned against the hood thinking about how jealous Butler would be, missing a petting. From the back field came a plaintive whinny. Before he could stop her, Celena was off angling across the yard towards George’s field. Keeping her in sight, he dawdled up to the paddock, watching as his prize stallion lowered his nose for his share of attention. The large pink and white nostrils widened, sniffing and blowing over her cupped hands. I don’t blame you horse, I’ve been doing the same thing since I met her, too. Impetuously, she hugged the large head before dancing back and away from the prancing stallion. George put on a good show of having been offended but he made it a farce by reaching his thick neck out for another.

  “Don’t you think you tempted fate enough, Princess?” he asked when it looked like Celena was considering the cajoling offer from the brute.

  “I guess,” she sighed then brightened, “there is always tomorrow.”

  The words made his heart ache in his chest. She might be here tomorrow or even next week. Hell, he could see her taking a vacation and staying a month, but years? He had to be honest.

  “Do you have work to do today?” Her question interrupted his self-pity party.

  “I was supposed to join the crew on a house over near Fairmont, but it is lunchtime so I guess I’m free until dusk when the boys need fed. Why? What’s on your mind?”

  Impishly, she replied, “Tying up a few loose ends.”

  Laying on his back staring at the swirled patterns on his ceiling, Red had to admit he didn’t expect the lose ends to be attached to a long length of soft white rope. He had almost lost his mind when she dragged him into the room, demanded he strip out of his shirt and lay on the bed. When he balked, she stood there arms crossed in her black patent leather Mary Jane’s tapping her toes impatiently. Curious and not a little turned on, he pulled the shirt off and crawled onto the bed and watched in fascination as her firm thighs straddled his belly as she focused on securing his wrists to the headboard.

  Testing the strength of the rope he tried to pull his arms down but couldn’t. The odd knots she used caused the slippery material to tighten then relax as he did.

  “Where did you get this?” He tilted his head back and looked with interest at the artsy knots holding his hands. “And what kind of knots are those?”

  “The rope is a gift from Lupercus, it was made with some very special tears. He suggested I use it to tie you to my side for the next decade or three, or until you stopped obsessing about me leaving you.” Clear grey eyes stared down into stunned blue. “The knots are a variation on the popular Celtic eternity knot.”

  Restlessly he tugged at the ropes. “C’mon Lena, you can’t know that you won’t leave.” He watched as the velvet soft color darkened to black, as if the pupil swallowed the iris.

  “Yes, actually I can.” The afternoon light streaming through the stained glass formed a corona of fire around her brightly glowing hair. “I look at you and see us, two halves of a whole, together for the rest of eternity.” Brusquely she freed her blouse, holding the lapels in both hands she yanked and parted the pale yellow fabric, exposing a wispy bra.

  “Now,” she continued keeping her resolve as hard as the flesh she felt rising against the seam of her buttocks, “you said you liked listening to me talk. Madden, this is your lucky day. I’m going to tell you just how things are going to be from now on.”

  “Oh yeah?” his voice was calm, cocky even but she caught the haze of lust in his eyes as he wetted his lips.

  “Yeah,” her voice was husky with promise and want. “I also remember how much you like these skirts.” Planting her hands on his chest, she stood over him on the bed in her lacy stocki
ngs. The feel of his sleek silky skin over ripped muscles just had to be petted and explored. Her hands tingled at the contact. In fascination she watched as her fingers teased one flat nipple to a hard nub, then the other. His skin warmed as he fought against showing his arousal.

  Smiling, she looked at the evidence lifting the front of his jeans and walked backwards. Bent at the waist, Celena was so intent on outlining every one of his incredible stomach muscles as she slowly inched backwards that she had forgotten the full length mirror in the corner.

  Red hadn’t. When she bent over he saw in the reflection just how little she was wearing under that wrap-around skirt--nothing but her glorious hide. Her peach and honey-gold slit glistened in the mirror making his mouth water. Hunger for the taste of her on his lips, tangy sweet made his cock weep inside his too tight jeans. The feel of the rough material rasping his flesh made him groan. The sound caught her attention and she caught the direction his eyes were aimed.

  “Naughty, even tied down I have to watch you, don’t I?” Celena teased, popping the button on his jeans and freeing his thick length. “I was going to take the skirt off.” Making conversation wasn’t getting any easier; she gulped down the urge to just give both what they wanted and to hell with the torment. One look into those lusty neon bright eyes changed her mind. Pouting, she pulled his pants down to his knees then trailed kisses along his inner thigh letting the fall of her hair brush over his erection.

  Legs tangled in his jeans, Red tried to lift his hips under the incredible touch of her hair. Every hair blazed a silken touch down the shaft. A hundred tongues of smooth satin wrapping around and dragging across as her head dipped feathering kisses to the hollow of his stomach and higher. A pert flick of her skirt and she sat astride his upper thighs, the soft pad of her mons nestled against the root of his cock. Lifting the dark plaid cover she taunted him with the sight of his throbbing shaft rubbing lightly against the downy plume of her mound before lowering the fabric.